


The Deed to Irving Hall

by blackflowercrowns



Series: Girlsies Week 2018 [6]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 10:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14423568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackflowercrowns/pseuds/blackflowercrowns
Summary: Medda's rise to Bowery fame.





	The Deed to Irving Hall

Medda Larkin hadn’t grown up poor, but she certainly hadn’t grown up rich. She was definitely middle class, especially for a coloured family. But she knew that even from a young age, financial trouble would follow her her entire life.

But still she fought.

She fought her way through ninth grade, being the first in her family to make it into high school. During the day Medda worked in a factory with other children. Her job was to change out the spools and tie any threads that broke. It was exhausting work, but Medda was determined to do it.

Every night after work she went immediately to school. A few other kids joined her, but not many. Oftentimes she fell asleep in class, the ink from her pen smudging on her face. More than once a teacher made her stand at the front of the class as he brought a ruler down on her already aching hands.

At fourteen, Medda was working at a shirtwaist factory, sewing buttons onto men’s dress shirts. She often came home with bloody fingers, as none of the factories would provide thimbles to the girls. She helped her mama prepare supper, and soon afterwards the entire family fell asleep.

At sixteen, a few girls from the factory told her about the Bowery. How the girls got paid to dance there, and a lucky few even got to do shows where they got to sing. It didn’t take much convincing, but finally Medda joined them one Saturday night to go to a show.

The girl on stage was wearing a long, yet skimpy, blue dress. She had an elaborate headpiece with huge blue feathers coming off the top of her head. In her hand was a large blue fan with feathers the same shade as the headpiece that ‘covered’ her legs from the audience’s view. 

Medda watched, enthralled, as the woman began singing. Her voice was deep and raspy, and hit the notes so beautifully that Medda felt them resonate in her soul.

 _“My lovey-dovey baby, I boo-hoo-hoo for you,”_ she sang. She swept the fan across the front row, brushing more than a few men on the face. This only seemed to get them more excited, as the whoops and hollers picked up speed. _“I used to be your tootsie-wootsie, then you said toodley-doo . . .”_ Okay so the words were a bit silly, but it still sounded pretty.

“Having fun?” Elizabeth asked, nudging Medda with her elbow. Dumbstruck, Medda nodded.

“Good,” Virginia laughed. “Cause we’re going out with her after the show.”

Medda turned to look at Virginia. “We are?”

Virginia laughed again, a pure and happy sound. “Yep. She invited us out for drinks across the street. Liz and I used to go to school with her and she wanted to catch up.”

Medda turned and stared, enraptured for the remainder of the show. She didn’t want to turn away as Elizabeth and Virginia led her out of the showroom, staring at the stage as long as she could. The girls both hooked their arms in Medda’s, talking gaily as she stood silently between them.

“Have fun, Medda?” Elizabeth teased.

“I think that was the prettiest thing I’ve ever head,” she said softly. Elizabeth and Virginia giggled. 

The three girls entered the saloon across the way and immediately found the girl they’d been talking to earlier. 

“Eleanor!” they called. Immediately her head snapped up from her drink and a smile spread across her face. 

“Hey, girls!” she greeted. They all gave each other hugs before sitting down at the table. Eleanor called over the bartender and ordered them all drinks. 

“And who is this?” she said, turning to Medda. Medda could feel her cheeks heating up at the attention. 

“This is Medda Larkin,” Virginia said. “She works at the factory with us.”

“Medda,” Eleanor said, tasting the name in her mouth. Medda thought it sounded heavenly coming from her mouth. “That’s a beautiful name. Would make a great stage name too.”

“Oh no, I could never,” Medda laughed.

“Why not?” Eleanor said. “You have a lovely voice, I can already tell. A few years of proper training and You’d be on your way to stardom!”

Medda smiled. “That’s very kind of you to say. But I’m afraid I haven’t got time for that.”

“You mean you haven’t got the money.”

“Well,” Medda said, caught off-guard by her bluntness. “I suppose so. Yes.”

“Brilliant!” Eleanor clapped her hands together. “We have that all taken care of! Meet me here every night after work and I’ll teach you!”

“Pardon?” Medda said, choking on her drink. 

“I’ll be your teacher!” Eleanor said. “I’ve been looking for a new pupil anyways, and you look willing to learn. Besides, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you stared at my performance. You were meant to do this, Medda Larkin.”

Medda cast a glance to Virginia and Elizabeth, who were both staring at her expectantly, grins on their faces. 

“Well,” Medda said. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Eleanor smiled and took a swig of her drink as Elizabeth and Virginia cheered.

“It’s settled then! You’ll be a Bowery beauty in no time.”

~~

Five years later the _For Sale_ sign went up on the Irving Hall. Medda watched sadly from her spot outside the dance hall. Irving Hall had been the first place she’d performed, and she was sad to see it go. 

She turned away sadly to walk back to her apartment a few blocks away. She knew that the sale sign meant that it would probably be condemned soon. Coney Island’s Bowery was going through a bit of a tough time, and lots of halls had to close their doors. 

Medda swung the door shut behind her and hung her coat and muffler on the coat rack beside it. She poured some leftover soup from a bowl onto a pot on the stove and began stirring it, humming to herself.

 _“If only I had riches,”_ she murmured. _“If only I had gold.”_

Her head snapped up. “That’s it!”

Frantically, Medda ran to her bedroom and pulled out a tin box from under her bed. She hurriedly counted the money in it, and when it was too good to be true she counted again. She’d been saving it for years, and after the fifth count she conceded that it was enough.

~~

Monday morning saw Medda standing outside the First National bank, dollar bills clutched in her hand. An hour later she emerged, several bills lighter, but with one piece of paper clutched in her hands. 

The deed to Irving Hall.


End file.
